A special bond
by MorbidMotive
Summary: Working in the surgery, you see many deaths. And sometimes mothers die from childbirth. Today was one of those days. John Watson, a doctor at the surgery, comes to find himself adopting an orphaned infant with curly, raven locks when the boy's mother dies during childbirth. Family fluff, baby Sherlock


**Okay, so I don't know about the adoption process, much less so about how it works through a hospital, so please be gentle.**

Chapter 1

Working in the surgery, you see many deaths. It becomes routine, almost, part of the job. You see many sick patients come and go, some better, some stay sick, some never get to recover.

Sometimes mothers die from childbirth.

Today was one of those days.

Doctor John Watson looked through the glass window at the orphaned baby boy he had just helped to deliver. He was sleeping peacefully, tiny dark curls sticking out. John's heart clenched for the little boy, though the baby was too young to know what happened.

"You alright?" A soft voice said beside him. He looked over to see his boss, Sarah, looking at the baby boy.

"Yeah," he responded quietly.

Sarah looked up at him sadly. "John, are you sure you want to work in this department? As sad as the truth may be, this will happen again."

"I know. Just… brings back some sad memories, you know?"

"I do." They stood quiet for a while, until Sarah looked at her watch. "Well, only an hour left, hang in there." She then placed a kind hand on his arm and walked away. John cast another glance at the baby and turned in the opposite direction.

xxx

Half an hour later, John found himself back at the little room, this time inside it. He was responsible for keeping charts up to date and keeping an eye on the little ones. He was reading the chart of one of the babies, when a high pitched wail came from one of the newborns. He set the chart down and looked for the baby making all the fuss, when he found that the tiny wail was coming from the orphaned boy. He looked around, not finding a nurse, so he walked to the small cot containing the boy, and picked him up, holding him close to his chest and running a very gentle hand over his dark curls while gently pushing him. He knew the reason that babies found 'ssh' to be so calming was because it mimicked the sound of blood rushing through the womb, so he knew it would help. The small baby's cries soon died out and he fell back asleep, but John didn't put him down. He smiled down at the baby boy until he heard Sarah's voice once again.

"John?" she was calling out.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Sarah."

Sarah smiled a small, though sad smile. "Don't get too attached, you know he has to go into the adoption program." John didn't say anything for a moment, just looked down at the boy, the clenching returning to his chest from before. Sarah seemed to notice this. "I'm sorry, John, but that's the way it needs to be."

"I know it is… Sarah, what if… what if I were to adopt him?" What was he saying? Adopt him? He knew about parenting, sure, hell, he'd almost been a father himself, but surely he wasn't seriously thinking of adopting this baby?

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was.

"Well, I can't tell you that you can't, but are you sure? After what happened with Anna… I just want you to be sure."

"I was sure six and a half years ago," he said as he looked down at the baby once more, and smiled a sad, little smile. "What happened with Anna was horrible, there is no denying that, but, yeah, I think I am."

"Well… then I'll get the papers ready for you."

"Thanks," he said quietly, still smiling down at the baby… his soon to be son… that was sleeping peacefully in his arms.

"Well, come along then," she said with a smile as she guided John to her office.

An hour later, John was a father and the baby had a name. Sherlock, after Sherrinford Reid, the man who had saved John's life in the war.

xxx

John sat on the couch in his flat, his small, one bedroom one bathroom flat, watching Sherlock as he slept in the cot John had gotten him after work yesterday. He was slumbering peacefully, a tiny thumb tucked in his mouth. He tried to wrap his head around the events that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

1. He had delivered a baby whose mother died in childbirth.

2. He connected with this infant as soon as he laid eyes on him.

3. He adopted the infant and made him his son.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a small whimper coming from the cot. He turned to see Sherlock's face crumple as a wail was sent out through the flat. He got up and walked over to the cot, rubbing Sherlock's small tummy gently.

"Ssh, I know, you're hungry," he murmured. He then proceeded to the kitchen, where a bottle had been kept in the fridge. He heated it up, tested the temperature, and brought it back into the living room, where he picked up his baby, held him in the crook of his arm, and placed the bottle in Sherlock's mouth. The infant accepted it gratefully as he drank the warm liquid. It brought a smile to the doctor's face, watching his son as he drank the formula. A tiny hand reached up slightly and rested itself over his bigger one.

John stroked the small hand with a finger until it wrapped itself around it. His smile widened a bit and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead. As the formula got to be less and less, Sherlock decided that he'd had enough. He stopped sucking the nipple and spit it out of his mouth. John draped a cloth over his shoulder and burped the little one, making sure any gases in his stomach released themselves painlessly. A tiny burp was heard, and when he rested the little one back in his arms, he found Sherlock looking up at him with wide eyes, watching him curiously.

John smiled once again and Sherlock's mouth broke out in a large smile. John chuckled and kissed his son once more, absolutely loving the decision he had made to adopt Sherlock. He chuckled fondly as he watched his son, and when he did so, Sherlock smiled again and gave a small laugh himself. It was so quick that if John hadn't been watching him, he would have thought it was a cry, but when he did it once, he gave another laugh, this one sounding more like a laugh instead of a cry. John chuckled again, and Sherlock copied him. Once a laugh was done, his eyes would start to shut and the smile would fade, but it always returned when he laughed at whatever his daddy was doing.

Sherlock and John continued their little game until Sherlock grew too tired. John kissed his baby on the head and brought him into his room, laying him in the cot next to his bed. He rubbed a hand over Sherlock's back a minute before turning on the baby monitor and going out into the living room. When he got out there, he stopped and looked at his sad little army pension flat. He hadn't moved out even after he got the job at the surgery simply because he was saving whatever he could to move somewhere nicer. He'd had his eye on a spot for a while, a flat on Baker St. Maybe now was the time to move? After all, he had a child now, and he should have enough by now. The flat was fully furnished and two bedrooms instead of one, so that when Sherlock was older, he'd have a bedroom of his own.

_Yes_, John thought, _I'd say it's about time to move out. _He sat down at his small desk and called to set up an appointment. Tomorrow at noon, he would go out and possibly get himself and his son a new flat.


End file.
